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By it dosent matter Date: 2003 Aug 01 Comment on this Work [[2003.08.01.04.33.16802]] |
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my memory is strongest within the fingers of my hands for they of themselves will sculpt from beauty only they might understand and of you... an wishes were true would i have my fingers drink soft an deep of such beauty this so new over gently rising curves eyes closed... without that need to see would i let my hands drift touching, feeling, remembering ... over lips to pause wet heat of sweet breath remembrance ... of shape, of soft, of hue only to the mind of the hand to trace dow over pulsing throat feel of life's blood flow its course through veins stuttering themselves of joy down slowly down more to trace a slender path of remembrance... |